Turns out, there's something deeply humbling about jogging through the forest in borrowed pants while being hunted by armed men. Every rustling branch became a sword, every owl hoot a death omen.
Alessio moved with quiet efficiency, guiding us up a narrow trail that wound between ancient pines and mossy rocks. I tried to keep pace, but let's be real—I was three twigs and a sneeze away from passing out.
"How much further?" I panted.
"Just over that ridge," he said, not even out of breath. "We're close."
"Define close. Is it the hopeful kind or the 'just a few more years of war' kind?"
He gave me a look. "Close as in—we'll be safe. If she lets us in."
"Oh good. Nothing like the comfort of conditional shelter."
We crested the ridge, and there it was: a crooked little cottage nestled in a grove of silver-leafed trees, windows glowing faintly with warm candlelight.
It looked like the kind of place where storybook witches handed out cursed apples and life advice.
"She's expecting us?" I asked.
"No."
"…Should I have brought a gift? Like a pie? Or a severed guard helmet?"
Alessio didn't smile this time. "She doesn't like visitors. But she'll help. She has to."
I followed him down the slope, trying not to trip over my own feet—or nerves.
He rapped on the wooden door twice, then once more. A secret knock, maybe.
For a long moment, nothing.
Then—
Creeeaak.
The door opened a sliver, and a wrinkled face peeked out, all lines and sharp eyes and immediate judgment.
Her voice was low, but firm. "You look like a half-dead squirrel. Who's the girl?"
"Evening to you too, Grandmama," Alessio said dryly. "This is Sonia. She's the reason Marius will be knocking down our door by morning."
"Fantastic," she muttered. Then she turned those hawk-like eyes on me. "You're the one he kept chained up like a bird in a cage?"
I hesitated. "Technically yes, but I prefer the term 'non-consensual houseguest.'"
Her expression didn't change. "You talk too much."
"And yet I keep being allowed to live. It's a mystery."
She snorted. "At least you've got spine. Come in before you draw the whole patrol to my door."
We ducked inside, and warmth wrapped around me like a blanket. The cottage was small, cluttered, and smelled like herbs and something savory simmering over the fire.
Weapons hung above the hearth like casual decorations. A crossbow leaned next to a broom. I immediately felt safer.
"Sit," she ordered, pointing to a padded bench. "Don't bleed on anything."
"I'm not bleeding," I said, sitting anyway.
"Give it time."
Alessio stood near the fire. "We need to stay the night. We'll leave at first light."
"I figured as much," she said, tossing a log onto the flames. "And the plan after that?"
"We go east. I have someone in Mellerfen who can help get her out of Aurenfeld."
My head snapped up. "Wait—leave the empire?"
He nodded. "You're not safe here. As long as Marius holds power, you'll always be a target."
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"But... that's running. I'm not just some damsel who needs smuggling out like contraband lingerie!"
"Would you prefer execution?" the old woman asked, not unkindly. "Because that's the other option."
I slumped. "Fine. I'll be the contraband lingerie."
Grandmama reached for a jar on the shelf and began mixing a poultice. "She's going to need new papers, a new name, and a lot more sense if she plans to survive outside these woods."
"Working on it," I muttered.
Alessio shot me a look that was half warning, half amusement. Grandmama didn't miss it. She fixed her gaze on him, her expression softening ever so slightly.
"You sure about this one, boy?" she asked.
He hesitated just a moment. "She's braver than most."
Grandmama snorted again. "Or dumber. Hard to tell at this hour. Either way, sit still."
She approached me with the poultice, and I instinctively leaned back. She grunted in annoyance.
"Stop squirming. It's just for your hands. Those blisters won't heal themselves."
I glanced at my palms, raw from scrambling through the forest. "Oh."
She patted the mixture onto my skin with surprising gentleness. The balm stung at first, then cooled. I risked a glance up at her.
"Thank you," I mumbled.
She harrumphed. "Don't thank me yet. You're still more trouble than you're worth."
I looked over at Alessio, who just gave me a faint shrug. I could almost hear him saying, 'See? Told you.'
The fire crackled in the hearth, filling the silence. I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of safety. Maybe it was the scent of herbs or the way Grandmama moved like someone who had seen the worst of the world and decided to keep living anyway.
"So," I ventured, trying to sound casual. "Do you always take in fugitives, or is it just a special day?"
She eyed me again, this time with a smirk. "Only the ones dumb enough to run into wolves. And you're lucky the boy has sense to spare."
Alessio raised a brow. "I'm right here, you know."
She grunted. "You're always right there. That's your problem."
For the first time, Alessio actually looked sheepish. I filed that away for later.
Grandmama shoved a bowl of stew into my hands without warning. "Eat. You're no use to anyone half-starved."
I nodded and dug in, the rich, hearty flavor warming me from the inside out. I hadn't realized how hungry I was.
Alessio sat beside me, quieter than usual. I caught him glancing my way, as if assessing whether I'd survive the night or not.
After a few minutes of silence, Grandmama spoke up. "You plan to drag this girl across the border without training? Without knowing who's friend or foe?"
Alessio met her gaze. "We don't have time."
"Then you'd better make time. Mellerfen's a day's walk. I'll teach her enough not to die on the way."
I wasn't sure whether to be grateful or terrified. Probably both.
And somewhere deep down, I realized—I wasn't just running from Marius.
I was running toward something I didn't yet understand.
To be continued